Almost
by Hailey-Doom
Summary: Post reichenbach, Johnlock, ADULT CONTENT. Rated M.


John stumbled and fell on the ground. It would be great to just stay here but... Sherlock. Need to get over to Sherlock. He lurched to his feet and saw Sherlock with his head in puddle of blood. Oh no this is not bloody happening. "Sherlock... Move.. I'm a doctor... I'm a doctor, he's my friend move..." Finally he got to Sherlock. He tried to feel his pulse but it was non-existent. "Oh no Sherlock... What did you do?" He whispered. Unfamiliar hands were trying to pull him away. He tried to hold on to the cooling skin, but he gave up the struggle. He didn't remember much the next morning. Everything was a haze. All he remembered was people putting him in his bed, and the burning pain in his chest before he drifted into un-consousness. Arrangements were being made for a funeral the next day. He tried not to think about that. H just weaved around all the people making preparations. God he tried not to think about it. He procrastinated going to bed, taking a long shower. There was nothing to do though, so he ended up in bed. He expected to feel proper pain, but he didn't. All he felt was a numb burning. Too soon for the reality of it to set in, he supposed. He stuffed the pillow over his face and laid there until he fell asleep. The funeral was simple. He was glad wen the guests left, and only Mrs. Hudson was left standing at the grave with him. "I'm angry." He was surprised when he spoke the words. Mrs. Hudson spoke, "It's okay, John. There's nothing unusual in that, that's the way he made everyone feel. All the marks on my table and the noise. Firing guns off at one in the morning." "Yeah." "Bloody specimens in my fridge. Imagine! Keeping bodies where there's food. And the fighting! Drove me up the wall with all his carryings on!" Mrs. Hudson talking about Sherlock sparked something. He felt the hurt now. "Yeah, listen. I'm not actually that angry, okay?" He managed to say. "Okay. I'll leave you alone to... you know." This is real. He was really at his best friend's funeral. He had to say some things to Sherlock though. "Um. Hm. You... you told me once that you weren't a hero. Um. There were times that I didn't even think you were human. But let me tell you this, you were the best man and the most human... human being that I have ever known, and no one will ever convince me that you told me a lie. And so... there." He remembered his life before Sherlock. It was so depressing. "I was so alone and I owe you so much." And he was supposed to go back to that, to just go on living when Sherlock wasn't? How was it fair. He was getting irrational now. "Please, there's just one more thing. One more thing. One more miracle, Sherlock, for me. Don't be... dead. Would you do that, just for me? Just stop it, stop this.." He choked off. Sherlock was dead. He didn't know what to do. He felt the pain, really and truly now, and it was all he could do to contain himself here. He reached out and touched Sherlock's tombstone. He turned and left. No need to let himself fall apart here. There would be plenty of time for that, later tonight. He wasn't going back to the flat right now. He would rent a room somewhere... He could send for someone to bring his clothes. He decided tonight would be a good night to go to the bar. Anything to bury the sinking feeling in his stomach. He turned and headed to the nearest bar. He could rent a room right near there to... that could become convenient...

Sherlock was watching the bar as usual, waiting for John to come out. He knew he couldn't tell John he was alive, and watching him only made him want to reveal himself... But he just had to make sure he got to the door of his room safely. John came out, but he seemed different. He showed signs of having been crying minutes before, but he wasn't now. Now he looked distraught... and determined? He followed John as usual, lurking around the corner as John fumbled with the key to his room. He watched as John finally got the key into the lock and went in. Sherlock ran after John, and reached the door as the lock clicked. Something was very wrong, this wasn't normal, usually once John was in he didn't think of the lock. Sherlock began picking the lock. He had to get in...

John got into his room and locked the door. He took his coat off and kneeled in front of the window, where the moonlight shone through. He thought about Sherlock, how vibrant and alive he'd been, and how cool his skin had been with his head lying in a puddle of blood. I killed him, he thought. I could have saved hi and didn't, therefor I killed him. He looked reverently at his gun. His final savior. He pressed it to his head and whispered "I'm sorry Sherlock." And his finger moved to press the trigger.

Sherlock got the blasted lock open. He cracked the door open and peeked in, then threw it open all the way at what he saw. John, kneeling in a patch of moonlight, with his gun pressed to his head. He whispered "I'm sorry Sherlock." By this time his body was already in motion to stop John, but he almost froze hearing those words.. John. Perfect, innocent John was going to kill himself over HIM? No.

John had almost pulled the trigger, when something solid slammed into him. What was going ON? He should have been dead by now. Why? He heard the gun skidding across the floor, landing at the other end of the room. Then he felt arms around him. He craned to see who it was. Did Lestrade somehow get wind of this? He didn't see how. He finally managed to see who it was, and almost fainted. "Sh-Sherlock?" "Never never never do that to me again what were you thinking what if I didn't stop you in time what have I done I'm so sorry John can you ever forgive me for almost letting that happen?" Sherlock was... Crying? Since when did Sherlock cry... Not to mention, he was dead! John jumped up, which resulted in him falling over. "Sherlock's eyes went wide "Are you okay?" Why did he sound so panicked he's the one who's dead. "You... You're DEAD. What's going on?" "I didn't really die John it was a plot to fool Moriarty and it worked." He was alive the whole time and he didn't tell me? "Why didn't you tell me?" "I couldn't I wanted to but I had to stay out of sight." "Couldn't tell me? Your best friend? Unless... I wasn't even really that." "What? No of course that's not true you don't believe that-" "Do you have any idea what you put me through?" At this point Sherlock was crying again, but he wasn't going to let up now. "I haven't been home the entire time, I've barely been eating, drinking until I'm ready to pass out, almost killing myself practically every night, the dirty clothes, what I must have smelt like these past few weeks..." He was going to go on but when he glance at Sherlock, he trailed off. Sherlock was frozen in place, his eyes open. "Sherlock? Sherlock what's wrong? I'm not angry Sherlock I'm happy you're alive I was just really really shocked Sherlock what's wrong?" Sherlock looked at me slowly, and spoke "You. Almost killed yourself. Every. Single. Night." This is confusing. "Yeah... didn't you know that?" Sherlock's eyes went wide. " If I had known, I would have stopped you the first time. You-you almost... No you can't d-do that. If you really died I would..." By now there were tears streaming down Sherlock's face. I pulled him to me and hugged him. "Hey... I'm fine.." But Sherlock wasn't listening. He slid down the wall until he was almost laying down. Only now did I notice he was thin. Very thin, the skin stretched tight, the circles under his eyes purple and deep. "Sherlock please sit up you're worrying me..." He didn't sit up, but pulled me down into his arms. We lay there, Sherlock clinging to me like a life buoy. I don't know how long we lay there like this, a long while, Sherlock breathing into my hair. I was still so shocked. Breathing. He was warm, nothing like that memory. Laying here with Sherlock felt so right... Finally Sherlock sat up against the wall, pulling me up with him. He looked at me. "John, you can never ever do anything like that again promise me." "Well what abut you? You were dead, what did you expect, me to go back to living the way I did before I met you?" Sherlock looked at me. "Well, no. I expected there to be some grief, but nothing counseling couldn't take care of. You going to the bar every night and coming home crying was a shock... Why would you possibly end your life over me?" This was terrible. He thought he meant so little to me. Without thinking I started to blurt out "Because I love-" I cut off realizing what I said. I felt my cheeks burn, and looked down. I couldn't look up while I talked now. "I-I'm sorry." Sherlock put his hand unde my chin and made me look up. I expected him to be upset, but instead I saw something I had never seen in Sherlock's eyes. Tenderness. He looked at me and asked "What is there to be sorry for?" And then he kissed me. Forgetting my embarrassment I kissed him back. I felt Sherlock smile into the kiss, and wrap his arms around me.

Why would John be this upset about my death? It's not like I meant the same thing to him that he did to me. I asked him, "Why would you possibly end you life over me?" Immediately he said "Because I love-" He cut him self off, and flushed, looked down. "I-I'm sorry." I barely registered that, because my whole chest was turning warm. I tilted his face up, and the embarrassment there was obvious. I looked into his perfect eyes and asked him "What is there to be sorry for?" And I kissed him. So many times I wished I could do this, and now I really can. I don't deserve this much happiness, but I have it. I have John. The rest of the world could end right now and I wouldn't care at all. I smiled and wrapped my arms around him. I wasn't ever letting him go. I pulled away and put my head by his ear. "I love you John." "I love you Sherlock" I would never become tired of hearing that.

Sherlock told me he loved me. My facial expression must have been ridiculous, good thing Sherlock's face was in by my shoulder. Although, I actually preferred it pressed against my own face. I wrapped my arms around Sherlock and he brought his lips back to mine. This time the kiss was more intense, needy. I opened my mouth against his and move his tongue in against mine. I moaned at the same time he did, and reached up to get his shirt off. I unbuttoned the front and he shrugged it off. That was better. I trailed my hand up and down his chest and stomach. He moaned and reached for my jumper, and pulled it up over my head. I was now glad that I hadn't bothered to wear a shirt under it. Sherlock trapped my hands above my against the wall, and pressed against me. We both had erections. He kicked his shoe off and I did the same. We were slowly making our way over to the bed. We arrived at the bed with his back to it, and I pushed him down onto the bed and climbed on top of him. I reached for his belt buckle, ad tugged until it came undone. I began sliding his pants down, and he lifted his hips up so I could work them over his butt. I went back to kissing him, but after a minute he flipped us over and pulled my pants off. He began kissing me again. He was on top of me now, the sculpted planes of his chest pressed against me. Our erections brushed each other, nothing but the thin cotton of our shorts between us. Sherlock murmured against my lips, "I love you so much." "I love you too Sherlock." I whispered back. He deepened the kiss, tangling our tongues together. I tangled my hands in his hairs and held his face pressed to mine. He moaned into my mouth. I reached one of my hands into his pants and brushed it along the length of his erection. He moaned again. I lightly drifted my hand up and down a couple of times, teasing him. I pulled my hand away and rolled over, putting myself on top of him. I kissed along his neck and jaw, feathering kissed down his chest, along his hard stomach. He moaned when I got to the area just below his belly button. I lightly traced my finger along the edge of his shorts, and then pulled them off. I immediately took his erection into my mouth, and began rolling my tongue around his head. He shivered and moaned lightly. I sucked harder, pulling him deep into my mouth. Sherlock moaned repeatedly. I could tell he was close, so I sucked as hard as I could, and on a huge moan, almost a howl, he released into my mouth. I swallowed the salty liquid and eased Sherlock through to the finish. When he was done he pulled me up to him and wrapped his arms around me. "God I love you." "Me too Sherlock." He pushed me over onto my back with a gleam in his eye, and began kissing me roughly. My erection was painful now. Sherlock dragged his hand down my stomach until he got to my shorts, and yanked them off. He wrapped his hand around my erection and began stroking, hard and fast. I let out a giant moan, and arched up my hips. Soon I was twitching and jerking, and Sherlock didn't stop until I was done. U pulled him to me hand kissed him softly. "I love you Sherlock Holmes." "I love you John Watson. I almost didn't get you, and now that I have you I'm never letting you go."


End file.
